The golden straw after the harvest coats the fields, waves with the wind goodbye, gives way to nesting, the sun sets, another day gathererd for memory.
The plane lifts, the earth below like a patchwork quilt, I trace the highway through the plane's window with my finger, I see our ranch below…. gathering my memories I close my eyes and whisper goodbye.
Hours later after flying across the universe, star to star, wish and pray, hopes and many dreams come true the plane lands safely in France.
Through the plane's window I see below the English Channel, beholding the French coastline I smile knowing that over yonder nestled amongst this patchwork quilt waits my family.
Harvest, wrapped in a quilt, telling stories the another day unfolds.
I am home with one foot planted in both soils.
Leave a Reply